Idiot's Array
by Fettkat
Summary: Star Wars Sitcom Ep 4. Of sabacc games and family vacations and how crimes against Corellians never ever pay! By far the funniest fic I have ever written! A personal favourite from my collection! Laugh your guts out!


Jaina Solo-Fel scowled at no-one in particular, pulling at the straw of her drink as she sat with her cousin at one of the outdoor tables in a pretty little juice bar in one of the most upmarket areas of Coruscant. Ben Skywalker placidly sipped on a glass of cool water, content to let his cousin sister do the talking for once. He had politely but firmly refused to order any beverage from the juice bar's extensive menu, maintaining faithfully that any establishment which did not even feature lomin ale on it's refreshments list was undeserving of the noble title of "bar".  
"I mean, it isn't such a lot to ask for!"  
Jaina had resumed her tirade. A pleasant breeze blew down the fairly lightly populated street, ruffling Ben's red-gold mop and making Jaina's long brown tresses wave slightly.  
"He's always like 'You take them.' I mean, that's not the point of a family holiday! The whole family is meant to be together!"  
Ben nodded sagely, stretching his legs under the table, riding out his cousin's rant. She needed to get it out of her system and he needed practice at obtaining Jedi Master-like levels of patience. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.  
"The twins need a break and if their energy is confined indoors any longer, I swear, I am going to go Sith!"  
Again, Ben agreed. He was fond of his little cousins, but Davin and Cherian were at that age when their parents were simply helpless as to what to do to keep them occupied and under control. Jaina was right. A holiday might just be the perfect distraction for them.  
"He's got his endless list of duties, and I'm a Jedi Master, for kriff's sake! I do have responsibilities within the Order! I hate to keep foisting them on Mom and Dad, not that they mind, bless them."  
She regarded her cousin shrewdly.  
"Sometimes I wonder how Aunt Mara did it with you."  
Ben's smile was as bright and fake as one of Coruscant's artificial planetary illuminators.  
"I am flattered you entertain such a high opinion of me, dear cousin. I assure you I was a perfect angel as a child."  
Jaina gave a very undignified snort.  
"But seriously, sis. You sound frustrated. Never a good thing for someone with a license to wield a lightsaber. I'm surprised Jag Be-Prepared-For-All-Contingencies Fel doesn't see what he's letting himself in for. You want me to maybe talk some sense into him?"  
Jaina scoffed.  
"There's nothing you could possibly say to change his mind. I've already tried everything..."  
"The black skimpy number you 'borrowed' from Aunt Leia didn't work, huh?"  
Jaina nearly choked on her juice.  
"Wha-?! How did you-?!"  
Ben was unfazed.  
"Your sons are most informative. As is Threepio."  
Jaina glared at him darkly.  
"The GAG ruined you for life."  
"Funny, that's what Dad says."  
"Well, he's right. I don't like you snooping around my personal life."  
"And yet here you are, with no one other than me to lend a sympathetic ear to your marital woes. Look, let me talk to him. Maybe...I can put it in a way he'll understand."  
Jaina sighed.  
"Alright. But whatever you do, Ben, don't try to bribe him again.."  
Ben rubbed his neck ruefully.  
"Don't worry, I've learned my lesson. Never thought he'd actually call Chiss security to throw me out of the building..."

* * *

Jagged Fel was nervous. He had good reason to be. He had just landed himself a social obligation he couldn't possibly refuse. His father-in-law had invited him to an all-Corellian evening of sabacc. Jag had three problems with this. First, his father-in-law was Han Solo. You don't turn down Han Solo. Not if you wish to remain married to his daughter. Second, he wasn't all that Corellian. He knew his parents were both Corellian by birth, but he had been brought up Chiss. Which was about as opposite to Corellian as you might be likely to get without actually turning into a Hutt. And thirdly, and this was the real clincher, he didn't know a nanovirus's ass worth of anything about sabacc. He even doubted whether he could spell it! But he couldn't possibly reveal that in front of Han Solo. He'd never live it down!  
All combined, on a day when the paperwork involved in running what remained of the old Empire didn't get any lighter than the incomplete bulk of the Second Death Star, he was understandably edgy and distracted. This included him yelling at his poor Chiss aide, Ashik, when a tiny hoverfly fell into his mug of caf and also allowing Ben Skywalker to enter his office.

Jag froze in the act of appending his signature to yet another Imperial Highly Classified For the Emperor or His Equivalent's Eyes Only document extending the leave allowance of all senior executive officers by another three Bastion weeks as the all-too cheerful countenance of his young brother-in-law strolled into his immaculate office.  
"Love what you've done with the place, Jag. Is that a new coat of antiseptic whitewash?"  
He regarded him icily.  
"What do you want, Ben?"  
Ben shrugged, his hands non-chalantly stuffed in his pockets.  
"Well, money, mostly. But I doubt I'd get that from you. I have got to find some way to get my dad to stop acting like a tight-fisted old man. No, I am here on a mission of mercy."  
"Jokes aside, Ben. What is this about? As you can see, I'm frightfully busy."  
"Sure you are."  
Ben drew out a chair and sat without being invited. Jag's eyes followed his every move.  
"That's the problem! You ought to get home to the wife and kids a bit more, Jag. Take a vacation!"  
"Ben, I'm warning you, if you're here to waste my time like the last time-"  
"Hey! You calling my sister a waste of time? You better watch where you're going with that, Fel."  
Jag sighed, rubbing the area between his brows. Ben leaned in close, his eyes narrowing.  
"I sense a disturbance in the Force. Come on, between bros. What's up? Moffs kriffing with you again?"  
Jag felt weary. He needed a break. He knew he'd never get all this work done with the threat of the evening's entertainment hanging over his head. Ben might just know of a way he could get himself out of this. After all, he did manage to avoid retribution for most of his acts on a fairly regular basis.  
"No...well, it's actually your uncle. It's about Han."  
"Uncle Han? Really? Is he even your type? Is that even legal?"  
"Ben, I'm warning you. Ashik is one push of a button away."  
"Ok ok, don't get all Chiss-in-my-grill! I'm listening."  
"I have to go play sabacc with him this evening. Alongwith all his Corellian buddies."  
Ben leaned forward expectantly, waiting for more. When Jag didn't venture any further, he blinked.  
"That's it?!_ That's_ what has you looking like Fett sent you a blank text?!"  
Jag looked disconcerted.  
"The thing is, I don't know anything about sabacc! I'm hopeless at games of chance! I can't refuse him, you know how your uncle is. And if he sees that I know nothing about sabacc...well, it won't go down well for my reputation with him."  
As expected, Ben was smirking.  
"Boy! Somebody's in a Sarlacc pit of bantha poodoo! But today just happens to be the day even the Sith Lords have decided to smile upon you. Your salvation just walked through your door."  
Ben ended with an extravagant flourish, but this time it was Jag's turn to blink in confusion.  
"I meant me," the younger man clarified, a bit miffed.  
"I've got an idea. I think I know just the one who can get you out of the trash compactor, and even leave you smelling good!"

* * *

Jagged Fel was still nervous. He wondered if he had done quite the wisest thing in allowing his brother-in-law's careless enthusiasm to infect him and persuade him to still attend this thing. He had repeatedly assured him that everything would be just fine. Jag groaned to himself. He was doomed.

They all sat around the giant dining table in the Solo residence, Han playing the ebullient and genial host for the evening. Meaning the whisky was on him. They had the large apartment to themselves, Leia was spending the evening with Winter Celchu and Allana was on Hapes for the remainder of the month, fulfilling her duties as_ Chume'da_. It was a boys' night to party, where all the "boys" were aged well above seventy standard years. With the exception of Jagged Fel. He was forty-two, but he felt eighty-eight. He still couldn't believe he was about to cheat, for the first time in his life. And that too at sabacc! And in the company of Corellians! He must have made a death wish at some point in his life. He thought perhaps he could claim a headache and excuse himself, but just at that moment, his uncle, Wedge Antilles thrust the first of what he was sure would be many glasses of Whyren's into his hand, clapped a hand upon his shoulder and firmly steered him towards the card-table. Han Solo was to be the first dealer and was busy shuffling the deck when he gingerly took his seat at the table. Corran Horn grinned at him from the opposite end of the table while his father-in-law, Booster Terrik, impatiently drummed his fingers. The cards were dealt. Jag picked up the top-most one, angling it discreetly so that it caught the gleam from a button on his collar.

C-3PO, protocol droid, gazed intently into the screen placed on the desk in the office of the Head of State of the Imperial Remnant while Ben Skywalker lounged carelessly in the plush nerf-hide chair, his boots crossed atop the polished desk.  
"Oh I say!" Ben heard him exclaim, "That is a terrible choice from Master Jag. From my analysis of all the probable combinations of cards he might have, it still appears to be an insufficient value to risk a wager against."  
"Well then tell him that!" Ben drawled, not even looking up from one of Jag's official datapads on which he was playing a high-speed racing game, "I'm not the one sitting and playing sabacc!"  
Threepio threw him an offended glare which Ben failed to notice, engrossed as he was in his game. He spoke into a small comlink held in his hand.  
"Master Jag, you would be well-advised not to call on this round. You have an extremely poor hand, I'm afraid."  
There was no response, as was to be expected. Ben had set up a one-sided communication array on Jag's uniform, comprising of an almost undetectable button-shaped spy-cam mounted on his collar and a comlink receiver plug within his ear. Jag's play was to be remote-controlled by Threepio, who could easily analyze all the mathematical variables involved in a card game and come up with the safest options for him to win. Ben had even surreptitiously temporarily disabled Threepio's ethical protocol, so the droid wouldn't drone on and on about the criminalities of cheating and the various gruesome punishments it could attract on various worlds. It was fool proof! All Jag would have to do was bring his cards within view of the cam pinned to his collar, and Threepio, sitting far away in Jag's office, would do the necessary calculations and convey the perfect strategy to Jag via comlink. Jag would then make the necessary moves, collect his winnings, and be hailed as a pro by all assembled. And without even opening his mouth! It was the perfect plan. It couldn't fail! Sometimes, Ben had to admit, even to himself, he was a true genius!

Han Solo frowned as he put in another round of credits from his rapidly diminishing pile into the hand pot. So far he had gone six rounds without winning a single one. In fact, only Booster Terrik had managed to win the first round. Corran had folded out in the previous round and had left the table to get himself a drink, muttering darkly to himself. All the rest of them had very surprisingly been won by Jag! He was now sitting back in his seat, looking far more relaxed than he had at the start of the evening. Han had thought the kid was a rookie at this sort of thing, not imagining it was something Soontir Fel might have encouraged his children to cultivate. Of course, he had a natural 'sabacc face'. He shrugged to himself. Perhaps it was a streak of beginner's luck. It wasn't unheard of. Kid would get his come-uppance at the hands of established veterans like himself soon enough!  
Wedge dealt the next round and Han very nearly grinned at the card he picked up. It was an ace of Staves. If his luck held out, he had a feeling he might just have a pure sabacc on his hands!  
"50!" he called confidently, expecting someone to raise his stakes.  
Sure enough, Wedge snorted and raised him.  
"100!"  
"So sure Antilles? You know what happened last time you tried to bluff me."  
"You're getting rusty, Solo. You don't watch out, one of these days _you're_ going to be the one going home without his ship!"  
Han grinned.  
"500", a calm voice called out from between them. Han swivelled, as did Wedge.  
Jag regarded them both placidly.  
"Are you out of your mind, kid?! This isn't a tournament you're playing, ya know!"  
"Are the stakes too high for you, Captain Solo?"  
Han ground his teeth. He would never let on that he had withdrawn from a wager.  
"You better have a super hand, kid. Or I swear I'll make you regret the day you ever decided to marry my daughter."  
"How about we play for that then?"  
Han was astonished at Jag's brazen confidence.  
"Fine. I'll call you. Let's see your cards."  
"Oh no, Captain. We have to follow standard rules. Person to the dealer's left has to show his cards first and so on."  
That was Booster Terrik. He grunted and banged down his cards on the table.  
"I fold," he growled. "Got poodoo instead of cards."  
He stood up and followed his son-in-law inside for a drink himself.  
Next it was Han's turn. He smugly laid down his pure sabacc. Wedge whistled.  
"I fold. Got nothing to beat_ that_! Good luck, nephew!"  
Jag and Han's eyes met across the table for a tense second and for the first time Han felt a flash of trepidation. The only thing that could beat his hand was...  
An Idiot's Array.  
Jag laid down The Idiot alongside a two and a three of Sabres, trumping Han decisively.  
Wedge's mouth hung open. Han closed his eyes, feeling a vein throb at the side of his temple. Jag reached forward for his winnings.  
"Hold it just a second."  
Jag froze. Han Solo's eyes were narrowed into sharp slits.  
"I thought you didn't know how to play sabacc."  
"Oh? Who told you that?"  
Jag fought to preserve his cool.  
"Your wife. She told me to go easy on you 'cause you're a rookie. Looks like her fears turned out to be unfounded."  
Jag gave a non-committal shrug, all the while keeping a tight hold on himself so as not to break out into a cold sweat. He leisurely gathered the chips from the sabacc pot, using the time to calm the thumping of his heart..  
"I used the HoloNet to find out the rules and strategy. You'd be amazed at the kind of stuff the 'Net has these days. Even training courses for rookies!"  
He smiled disarmingly.  
Han didn't buy it for a moment. He leaned forward menacingly.  
"How'd you do it?" he snarled.  
Jag raised his eyebrows, the very picture of innocence. Inside, though, his blood was turning rapidly to ice-cold water.  
"Do what?"  
"Cheat. Not a wise idea, kid, in a room full of Corellians."  
Jag drew himself up haughtily.  
"Excuse me, Captain Solo, but I resent that insinuation! I have never been brought up to cheat! And you forget, I am of Corellian descent as well."  
Han watched him leave slowly, his posture the epitome of wounded dignity. Wedge had been following the exchange silently the whole while.  
"He's telling the truth, Han," he tried to pacify his friend.  
"Jag couldn't cheat even if he tried. It's simply not in his nature."  
"Well, then either there's another hand behind this whole affair, or he's just bluffed me out of my own game. Come on," Han stood up abruptly.  
"I'm going to tail him."  
Wedge frowned.  
"Don't you think you're taking this a little too far, Han? It's not like you to be such a sore loser."  
"And it's not like Jagged Fel to be able to beat me at sabacc. I've got a feeling about this, Wedge. Trust me."

* * *

Jagged Fel remained calm the entire way during his drive back to his office. He smiled briefly at security, nodded amiably to his aide, Ashik, and entered. But as soon as the door shut behind him, he leaned against it, his face draining of all colour, his knees almost knocking against each other as his breath came in erratic gasps. Jagged Fel looked like he'd seen a ghost!  
Ben Skywalker sauntered over, a triumphant grin on his face.  
"Well? Huh? Huh? Awesome, right? What'd I tell you?!"  
He hoisted Jag roughly to his feet and then nearly toppled him with a hefty slap on the back.  
"You cleaned them out, bro! Oh, the last hand was a stunner! I gotta tell you, I was impressed by your game-play! They didn't catch on for even one second !"  
Ben was literally crowing in delight.  
"No, Ben...I-I think they caught me out," Jag was still panting.  
"Han...he-he didn't believe me..."  
Ben's grin slipped off his face to be replaced by a look of ever-widening shock.  
"_What?!_ And you came _here_?! Seriously, Jag! What is _wrong_ with you?!"  
Jag looked up into the younger man's eyes in alarm.  
"You'd better get your butt off-planet, mate. Take Jaina and the kids too. If Uncle Han finds out you cheated him at sabacc, he'll never leave you alive!"  
He was doing a good job of terrifying his brother-in-law. He hustled him to the back of the office.  
"This place has a secret exit, right?"  
Jag nodded, moved swiftly to his desk, drew out a hidden activation pad from beneath his desk and quickly punched in a code. Then he paused for a moment, frowning down at a datapad on his desk.  
"Ben? Have you been playing Hot Starship Pursuit on my datapad?"  
He picked it up.  
"Aw man! You re-configured the levels! And I'd reached Level 721 too! Now I'll have to start over!"  
A pillar at the far end of the office room had moved aside, revealing a narrow passageway behind it.  
Ben pushed Jag towards it.  
"Leave all that, Jag! Go! Go get Jaina and scram, ok?"  
"What about you?"  
Ben gave his best cocksure grin.  
"Hey, what could happen to me?"  
He would regret those words for a long time to come.

The pillar had barely slid into place behind the fleeing Head of State before the main entrance to the office slid open and an open-mouthed Ben Skywalker was faced with the sight of a gang of aging Corellians sneering as they cornered him.  
"Aha!" Han Solo exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at his nephew, staring around at the group with a trapped expression on his face.  
"Knew there was a bigger fish to fry!"  
Wedge Antilles scratched his head.  
"But how could he have helped Jag at your place if he was sitting here?"  
"Here's how", the deep growl of Booster Terrik interjected, pulling out a de-activated golden protocol droid from a corner.  
"A comlink!" Corran Horn said, as he swiftly completed an examination of the droid.  
"Ben must have had Jag wired!"  
All four pivoted towards the young Skywalker as one. Their quarry had backed up almost to the window.  
"Look, uh, guys, I-I can explain...I mean, I was just trying to help out a bro, tha's all. C'mon, Uncle Han. He's family, right?!"  
"Sure he is."  
Han Solo crossed the room in two strides and shot out an arm, grabbing hold of Ben's collar in an iron vice. Ben winced.  
"It's your status I'd be more worried about if I were you."  
He turned to his compatriots, wearing his famous smirk.  
"Well, boys," he said, "Looks like we've caught ourselves a womp rat here. Question is, what do we do with him?"  
Ben looked around at the leering faces as a tight knot of dread built up in his stomach. He was getting a bad feeling about this...

* * *

_Two weeks later._

Jaina Solo-Fel strolled into the hangars wearing a small smile of satisfaction, looking deeply tanned and relaxed. She walked over to the X-Wing bays and stopped at the foot of one looking up at a lean figure working diligently at cleaning some carbon-scoring from near the cockpit.  
"What're you doing up there?" she called up to her cousin.  
"Isn't that Wedge's fighter?"  
Ben turned a haggard face to scowl down at her.  
"You bet it is! I had to paint 'General Wedge Antilles' underneath the canopy seven times before Uncle Wedge was satisfied with the size, font _and_ colour of it!"  
Jaina frowned.  
"What's going on? How come_ you're_ working on Wedge's X-Wing?"  
Ben deepened his scowl, putting aside his implements to descend the ladder towards her.  
"How was your vacation?" he replied instead, changing the topic.  
Jaina's face lit up like the twin suns of Tatooine.  
"Oh it was perfect! Jag and I had such a wonderful time together! And the twins enjoyed themselves thoroughly. We went sunbathing, and swimming and Jag took me out to dinner to a different restaurant every night!"  
Jaina heaved a contented sigh.  
"Oh, and Mom's little...outfit came in handy too!" she winked.  
Ben blanched.  
"Please, Jaina. I've been deputed to slave labour to pay for your vacation. You owe me one, sis. BIG time!"  
Jaina gave her cousin an amused look, taking in his grease-smeared appearance fully for the first time.  
"Seriously, though. What did you tell Jag to change his mind? He whisked us off on that vacation like there was no tomorrow!"  
Ben let out a melodramatic sigh.  
"Oh you know, the usual. Get a tan or get a divorce."  
He shrugged.  
"It's a long story anyway. I'm glad atleast you got a good time out of it."  
"And what happened to you?"  
"I was punished. I had to spend the last two weeks at the Kuat Driveyards supervising an entire re-painting of the_ Errant Venture._ And that wasn't even the worst of it."  
Ben gave a grimace, looking at his older cousin sorrowfully.  
"Uncle Han made me give Threepio an oil bath. By hand! Damn droid went orgasmic! Do have _any_ idea what orgasmic sounds like in six _million_ forms of communication?!"

** THE END**


End file.
